My speech at Irish Theatre Institute’s event “Speak Up And Call It Out”

I am here because in October of last year I wrote a blog, describing an experience I had with Michael Colgan, former director of The Gate Theatre.

Today I am going to share with you what I have learned from the past few months, in the hopes that it will be useful as you consider the questions of today.

I want to presence that the terrority we are exploring here brings up a lot of fear in me. I know a lot of people feel that way too.  I want to acknowledge the courage it took everyone in this room, to come here, to start to face into this. I know that for some of you, being here will bring up painful memories of past hurts, or in present challenging situations.

I am trying to stay with my fear. Not to fight it, push it aside or deny it. I believe that in the fear we will find all the wisdom we need.

When I wrote my blog post it felt like I had thrown a grenade.  People started to write to me and tell me their own experiences, of abuse of power, sexual harassment, and bullying. 311 people have written to me so far, their experiences are in media, politics, law and the overwhelming majority are in the theatre.

I have discovered a lot about myself in the past few months. I have learned that when I feel fear, I try to control.

At the height of all this, I wanted to know how to manage it all. I wanted to be able to fix it. I thought I could see a five-act structure for how it all works out, a way to bring all the characters in this story to a safe resolution. I learned that it would not be that simple. The more experiences I heard, the more I started to understand the complexity. I had to accept, that I can’t resolve this situation alone. No matter how afraid I am, I can’t control it. I met my own powerlessness.

As theatre artists, we understand the complexity of human interactions. Our role is to explore relationships, to reflect society back to itself - and to ask questions in order to elevate consciousness.

We know well how complicated human beings are.

Faced with the task of establishing a code of behavior we know that it’s impossible to legislate for every scenario that could possibly come up when a group of people are making work together.

For me, this brings up more fear. Fear, that there will be too much safety, that we could get to a place where we are so afraid of repeating the mistakes of the past that there is no artistic freedom.

But the flip side of that is, as theatre artists, with our study of humanity, we are well equipped to innovate and find a way create enough safety that allows artistic risk to flourish.

In our work, we stray away from black and white. We know how to hold opposing truths.

The truth is we are not here gathered in this room because of behavior that is subtle or unclear. We are here because of behavior that has been widely known and acknowledged as damaging to the dignity of others, but yet has been tolerated and enabled for decades. So many of the people who wrote to me talked about “Having nowhere to go” Conversations happened, but there was no action. We filled the void created by the absence of structure, with gossip, open secrets, inertia, and inaction.

I was told that I was brave hundreds of times after I wrote my blog.

I don’t think publishing my blog was brave. I believe it was courageous.

Bravery is doing something without feeling any fear. Courage is a state of mind which enables you to feel the fear and take action. Courage comes from the heart.

People have said to me “I could never do what you did” I hope that nobody else has to.

13 of us spoke publicly about our experiences because we hoped it would make a difference. It was a sacrifice. I hope that today in this room, our sacrifice can lead to a culture where nobody needs to be so exposed to affect change; Where there is always, somewhere to go.

For those 311 people who wrote to me, I was the place to go.

They have each spoken up in their own way. Some addressed the people who had hurt them directly, some told another colleague, some went to boards, some made formal complaints, some went to the guards.

They didn’t take this action straight away. It came from conversation and careful consideration.

The behavior the 13 of us experienced was ouvert. But it gave a context to many to explore more subtle behavior they had experienced. They struggled to name it. They questioned, was that offensive?  was that abusive?  am I just being too sensitive? I couldn’t answer those questions for them. I told them they were the arbiter of what feels right for them. If you feel bullied, it doesn’t mean the person intends to bully you, but your feelings are no less real and no less true.  Here’s where we need to hold opposing truths. This is all subjective. We have to own our right to bear witness to our own experience.

Accepting that subjectivity throws up more fear. When I quoted Christine Buckley and said: “I believe you before you open your mouth”. This brought up fear. Do we just believe every accusation? In the absence of structure, there will always be fear.

My question for today is this; how can we create structures that can hold these behaviors to rigorous account, while having compassion for both accusers and the accused within those structures?

How could we build an open receptive structure where the accused and the accuser can trust that they will be both be believed?  Where we all feel safe enough to start this name these behaviors?  Can we condemn the behavior without condemning the person?

When I think of the experiences I have heard It feels instinctive for me to go to black and white, thoughts of crime and punishment. I try to have compassion and empathy.  Bullying and harassment are coping mechanisms. Bullying is not an identity, it’s a behavior. But when it is allowed to continue, with no structure to address it, it is too damaging to be tolerated in any way.

As artists, we work under time pressure. We often feel like we need to get it done. We put the work above our own needs. We welcome vulnerability in the work, but sometimes we can’t hold it in real life. There have been many times, where I have felt like I don’t have time to speak up. I would rather get on with it and put up with it than call it out.

I have learned that taking this action to speak up does not take away from the work. It is the work. Many of the people who wrote to me had experiences that happened a number of years ago. They were no longer working with the person or people involved. I encouraged them to get in touch and try to clear it. In some cases, other people might still be experiencing that behavior today.  By having this difficult conversation, you’re helping yourself and you’re helping others, but you shouldn’t have to do that alone, there have to be structures to support you.

I hope The Code being initiated here today will be a structure that can support and empower us all. I hope that structure will give us all the space to speak up and call it out, in our own way, in our time, with courage and compassion, putting our own self-care at the center of the action.  

I believe that these behaviors are part of our humanity. We can’t stop them from happening, but we can develop healthier ways to address them.

I think the first step, is becoming comfortable talking about them openly.

I have learned that having the conversation is always better than letting something go unsaid. Every time I have tolerated a behavior that doesn’t sit well with me It has been damaging. When I have found the courage to speak up and call it out, it has been healing.

And equally, every time someone has come to me and expressed that my behavior had hurt them it was painful at the time, but I needed to hear it, I am grateful to the people who have had the courage to have that conversation with me.

As theatre artists we are required to provide a risk assessment for the production if actors or crew are working from a height, or destroying the set with a chainsaw, or even if someone has to stand on a chair.

There is an inherent psychological risk in making art with a group of people.

What would a psychological risk assessment look like for the idea of a group of people going into a room together to try and make the impossible happen, over and over again, with not enough money, not enough time, working with their own histories, working with the collective unconscious, the shadow, trauma, completely venturing into the unknown in an emergent creative process with potentially no idea of what might happen?

In every risk assessment, we state, that all we can do is mitigate the risks. We can’t control them entirely. No matter how afraid we are. If I stand on a chair, I still might fall. I had to learn this. I invite you to accept that no code, no toolkit will make you 100% safe.

But we can take responsibility for ourselves. We all have power, and the ability to use it or abuse it. I think none of this will matter unless we can each look at ourselves and our behavior around power; when we speak up we become empowered, when we stay silent, we give it away.

Informed by this experience, to take responsibility for myself, I have written my own code of behavior, it is completely unique to me;  

I am responsible for my own self-care

I place my self-care at the center of my work

It is not ethical, to hurt myself in order to help other people.

I try not to create the conditions I am trying to redress

I welcome all expression

I acknowledge that I have the capacity to harm others and when I am wrong I admit it as promptly as I can.   

I take action, where I can, with courage

I believe that there is wisdom in conflict

If I feel hurt I try to name it

I believe you before you open your mouth

When I was writing my blog I was asked what outcome I wanted. I think this is an important question to consider before taking any action.

There are two stories here, outlining different ideas for the future of Irish theatre.

In the first story; there are bad people and good people and the bad people need to be stopped. We are outraged. In this story, we want punishment and sanctions for the horrendous people who have hurt us. We blame our artistic sensibilities. We emulate business people, in the private sector.  If we make new rules, decide the punishment, everything will be ok and we will all feel safe. This is our perspective. There is only one. It is black and white.

That’s the important part of that story. It gives us a way of feeling safe. That’s why we need it. When we feel fear, We try to control.

In the second story, we acknowledge that we don’t just feature in our own story.  We are all the protagonist and the agonist in the multitude of stories we appear in. We have the courage to look at our past mistakes and the wrongs that we feel were done to us. We acknowledge that just like anyone driving a car has the potential to cause harm, and the responsibility to do everything they can to avoid that; we as human beings attempting to make art together have that capacity and the responsibility.

In the second story, our narrative can hold multiple perspectives. The outcome we want is restorative, not punitive. Our approach reflects and honors our artistic selves, we innovate, we create a new structure that can hold opposing truths.  We expose the truth.  We see that this is about power. We redress our past failures. We heal, collectively, from this hurt..

It won’t go in a straight line. We’ll move backward and forwards, we’ll make mistakes again, but there will be movement, action, change, flow. It’s difficult to hold opposing truths, it’s hard to stay with the fear. Courage is learned, it doesn’t happen overnight. This is a process. We will make mistakes.

Ella Clarke wrote about the loss to the art form from these years of in action. The people who gave up because they found it too hard.  That is what’s at stake here. That’s what we lose if we don’t evolve.

There are two stories in the room, with two different ideas of the future of Irish Theatre. What future do you want?  

In the last few months. I met my own powerless. I learned that no one should do this alone. We all have to hold the power in order for this to change.

Standing here I feel like  I don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’ve already started to build the place to go.

Look around you.

We’re here.

Previous
Previous

Bring These Stories Home at 8

Next
Next

“The stone in my shoe” ; Adrienne Corless,  Nina Vodstrup Andersen & Caragh Smyth experiences at The National Museum...